Dear Anessa
by DuchessRaven
Summary: The last chapter of Anessa's story. Collaboration with Elin-Darling. Dedicated to sailorptah and all my fans.


AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is a collaboration with Elin-Darling, to whom I credit with a major part of the plot. This does NOT mean I'm coming out of my retirement. I wrote this because Erin Ptah, aka sailorptah, aka creator of Shine Heaven Now, graciously helped me out with something. I dedicate this story, the final chapter in Anessa's tale, to her and to all of my fans. Thanks and I love you.

DEAR ANESSA

_Dear Anessa,_

_I love you. I always will. I…_

_I should start from the beginning._

_Your name is __Anessa Elizabeth Cneajna Hellsing. Quite a mouthful, isn't it? I always thought so, but I never got tired of saying it. You were born to a vampire, Alucard (I never did learn his surname, as he never offered it and I never asked) and a woman who was human at the time of your birth, Integra Hellsing. You are the best of both worlds. I hope that when you wake, you will still remember that, even if you forget everything else._

_Actually, perhaps I'm wasting my time. After all, your life is eternal, and your memory must be, too. Maybe you will remember everything better than me. Maybe I'm not doing this for you at all, maybe it's just for myself, so I could remember you, experience you one last time, in my last hour._

_Maybe you remember when we first met, in a dark alley behind a pile of bodies, rank with the stench of death and blood. Not the most romantic setting, but then romance wasn't exactly what we had in mind – me peddling my skills for anything of value, and you with a gun pointed at my head. I was a different person then, all of fifteen, already with as many deaths on my conscious, brash and stupid. I had gotten mixed up with some bad men, men who thought they could obtain profit by partnering with vampires, and wound up their food. I would have been food, too, if you hadn't appeared. I'll never forget the first thing you said to me. Your eyes were red that night, as you stood over the pile of bodies, your father's gun leveled between my eyes._

_I was certain you meant to kill me, but then you said, "kid, do you want a job?"_

_You are incredible. Not just in a common, arbitrary sense, as the word is usually used, but literally incredible. You claimed you were thirty-five, but I didn't believe you, not at first. After all, you looked nineteen, with your short raven hair and agile body. The only thing that lent you any sign of age are those round glasses you insist on wearing. I don't understand it to this day. After all, they are just glass. Your eyesight was always perfect. _

_You commanded this organization. It is the size of a small army, and it is called Hellsing. Among my first days as your servant, you walked me down its many halls and told me stories too fantastic to be tall tales. I wasn't sure how much I believed. I'm not sure how many I believe now. You showed me a portrait of your mother, and when I asked whether your parents had passed on, you merely smiled and moved on. Little did I know, I would meet them for the first time on our wedding night._

_There were many things that made you who you are. Your parents, your friends, and those like me, your servants. There was a man who made a mark in your life, you once told me. A man you love when you were young, impetuous, and much too bold like I was. His name was Seth, and he was your first love._

_Though I loathe to write about him, I cannot go on without acknowledging his part in shaping your life. I could not imagine the you you described to me in your days with him. So cheery, so idealistic, so carefree. You viewed everything like a game, you said. Everything seemed glorious and exciting. Nothing phased you. Nothing frightened you. When he was by your side, you shone. _

_But his death, you said, taught you more than anything in your life. You made him a vampire, you said, to save his life. The only vampire you ever made. He was grateful to you, and he loved you. He loved you so much he wanted to prove himself to you, no matter how you tried to dissuade him. You said you didn't even know it was him until they carried his body into your office, covered in blood._

_"Then," you said, "all the jokes stopped. All the laughter drained out of me. I fell into a deep, black hole of despair, and emerged what I am now. No longer drunk on bliss, I became sober."_

_I always thought that, in the back of your mind, you loved him more than you ever loved me. I'm OK with that._

_You used to criticize me, and I used to resent it. Once or twice you struck me, and I can't say I didn't deserve it. I remember the first and last times I bled for you, and the many thousand times in between. You said I was special, that my skills were unique in the killing field, and that it was better to use it to protect the country and the queen than to waste it on petty theft. You spoke of God to me, of country and faith and loyalty. You spoke of your parents, your proud mother and powerful father. _

_Many times I had the chance to leave, and many times I considered it, but somehow I couldn't. I don't know why. I couldn't betray you, not necessarily out of a sense of loyalty, but because, unknowingly, you had drawn me in. You and those around you._

_I can't say when I started to feel this way about you, because I don't know. Only that one day, I suddenly realized serving you was unbearable. Ten years had passed. I looked back on it, and couldn't understand how I had survived those years without holding you in my arms. I had grown up, become a man. A stiff and awkward man, but a man nonetheless. I could kill, but I could not woo. I had no reason to think you would feel the same way and the thought was unbearable. I'll never forget that night, when I entered your office after a long night, covered in dirt and blood. You were sitting in that cavernous office, not a day older than when we met, the moonlight bathing your hair. Your eyes were blue that night._

_I told you I couldn't stay anymore, that I was going to pack my meager belonging the next day and leave. You took off your glasses and looked at me. You didn't ask why I was leaving. You didn't ask if I had betrayed you. You asked, "what do you want me to do to make you stay?"_

_And I said the one thing that came to mind. "Marry me."_

_Then, unblinking, you said, "OK."_

_Our wedding was small. It was attended by your friends – the faithful butler Walter, who always seemed much older than he looked, the old priest you affectionately called Father Alex, and your sister, Seras Victoria. You wore red, and we wed under the moonlight in the mansion's courtyard. After the wedding you led me by the hand and we took a walk through the quiet countryside. You led me to a graveyard, and when I asked what we were doing here, you replied, "to meet my parents."_

_During our life together, this was the only time that I met your parents. I remember seeing them from a distance and thinking for a moment that they were ghosts. But as we drew close, I realized they were only half-ghosts. The undead. Vampires. By this time I had seen more than my share of vampires to identify them on sight, but your parents were nothing like the mongrels we cleansed each day. They were tall, willowy, and elegant, like nymphs or wandering spirits. _

_Your mother, with blue eyes like yours and hair like white silk._

_Your father, with presence like wild fire sealed in a gentleman's body._

_I was frightened that night. I never told you that but perhaps you could tell. It was not fear of physical harm. No. I was afraid that they may see me, a common soldier, as unworthy of their family. Imagine my shock when you stepped forward and said, "this is the man I told you about."_

_While I stood there, dumbfounded, your mother approached me. She looked me up and down. I had never felt so naked in my life. Then she turned to you and said, "you were right about him." I suppose I'll never know what she meant. _

_After the wedding, I took your name. Hellsing._

_The day our son was born was one of the greatest of my life. He's grown now, with a child of his own. I hope that you will wake in time to meet him as a man. I will never forget, Anessa, the day you stood up in the middle of a meeting with the Convention and walked out of our lives with two simple words, "I'm tired."_

_It was hard without you, Anessa. I don't want you to feel guilty. It's merely a fact. It was hard._

_At times I mourned you. Other times I resented you. Sometimes I even tried to hate you, but never quite succeeded. I still remember what you were wearing that day – white blouse, tan suit, brown pumps. It was morning, around ten o'clock, and the Convention members had already prattled on for too long. You stood up, and said simply, "I'm tired", and walked out the door._

_At first I fumed that you left me to finish up alone. Then irritation turned to worry when I didn't find you in our bedroom, or in your office, or in our son's room. Or anywhere for an entire day._

_Then for an entire week._

_Then for an entire month._

_Jonathan was only eight. He couldn't understand why you had left him. Left us. The only thing I cannot forgive you for is leaving me to explain to him why his mother had abandoned him. But he grew up well. He went through a rebellious phase, but he grew up into a proper man, smart and courageous. I wish you could see him._

_Did you know, my love, that I met with your parents again, on Jonathan's thirteenth birthday, five years since you disappeared. I walked into your office – my office by that point – and there they were. Your father stood in front of your grandfather's portrait, and your mother was sitting on the windowsill. They were still beautiful, still young. In fact, I dare say they looked younger than me at this point. Your father said nothing to me, but your mother approached me soundlessly, as if walking on air. She touched my face, and said one thing_

"_Our daughter truly trusts you."_

_Your family is one of few words._

_I never saw them again after that. But, five more years later, I understood your mother's words. It was a stormy, sleepless night, when I wandered the mansion, reminiscing how we used to walk the halls together. Perhaps it was the lightning that lit the way to these stairs. Stairs I had noticed before but brushed off because you never mentioned them. I descended to this basement, looking for something but not quite what, until I found this room. And this coffin. _

_And you. Imagine my surprised when I lifted its lid and came face to face with the sleeping beauty I had searched for for so long._

_You're still young. You're still wearing that suit. And you will be young when you wake up, however many decades and centuries from now. I gazed upon your beautiful face and finally understood._

_You were tired._

_You were tired of bearing the burden of this family after so many years. You never aged. Frozen in time, you faced those burdens eternally. Those expectations. Those responsibilities. It was not your fault you were born noble. You did not ask to be a Hellsing, though you filled those shoes so well._

_You once told me your father had a coffin. Perhaps this is it. It looks much too large for you._

_I told no one about you. I let you sleep. Though once in a while I came down here, just to make sure you are still here._

_Hellsing has stood. Though it was hard, I had carried on. I wouldn't say spectacularly, but reasonably. I think that was what your mother meant – you trusted me enough to rest without worry. You trusted me to carry on._

_I have prattled on for too long. My time is short. I should wrap up._

_It has been fifty years since you went to sleep. I am an old man now, no longer the brash young boy you met all those years ago. Our son is grown, as is our grandson. _

_Dear old Walter passed away seven years ago. He died peacefully in his sleep. It was odd, really, like he welcomed death. Toward the end, he lamented repeatedly that he had been alive for much too long and was ready to rest. I think the two of you were identical in that sentiment._

_Your sister was devastated by your disappearance. But she's a tough girl. Like you, she hasn't aged a day, though her eyes had grown weary without you around. She always seemed to be longing, though when I offered her freedom, she refused. She said that was not what she longed for. I suspect that she longed for the return of her family. Your parents, and you. She misses her sister._

_Shortly after the visit from your parents, Father Alex left. He informed me calmly that he had some wrongs to right, and I did not question him. I do not know where he is, but he's a tough old guy so I reckon if he's still alive, he's doing just fine. Losing him was tough on Jonathan. _

_Your clothes are beginning to deteriorate. I have left some new ones along with this letter. I can feel my last hour drawing near. I only want you to know this._

_I love you._

_I will always love you._

_I have told them to bury me in the same cemetery where I met your parents for the first time. When you wake, please, if you could, spare a kind thought for your husband who has stayed faithfully by your side._

_Love, Forever and Always,_

_Rocco Bastian Hellsing_

oOo

Anessa Hellsing kissed the letter gently and folded it up. It was old now, yellow with age and crisp to the touch. She tucked it into the inner layers of the jacket, the one her husband had left for her, and stood.

Her hair had grown long, and turned a silvery gray. With one hand she reached out and touched the tombstone before her. A soft sob and a quite laugh escaped her at the same time.

"You're always so dramatic," she said to the tombstone, and wiping away the tears that streamed down her face, she stood. The air was still, and tendrils of clouds drifted lazily over head.

She wondered what to do next. Being free was a new concept for her. For the first time, she had no schedule, no demands, no responsibilities. Like her mother, she had freed herself.

Where to go? She had no idea, and it didn't seem to matter. See the world, perhaps. Or find a quiet corner of it and spend some time just resting and watching the night skies. Perhaps she will cross paths with her parents at some point.

It didn't matter.

She had no plans.

She turned away from her husband's grave and didn't look back.

oOo

As the woman with silvery hair left the gravestone, the butler turned to his mistress. "Shall I inquire who she is, Lady Hellsing?"

His mistress, a tall woman with steely blue eyes and a head of hair light as wheat, shook her head. "No," she said, "whoever she was, she didn't seem to mean any harm. Perhaps she was a family friend of great-grandfather. There is no need to trouble her." She turned and entered the car as the butler held its door open for her.

"Where to, ma'am?"

"The King's palace. I must have a few words with him personally about the weapons budget."

END


End file.
